“Don’t have any with me,” I add. “But if you want to talk.”
He wipes his face, tries to pull himself together, then gives up and sinks back down. That’s my cue to slide down the wall and sit across from him.
“I love this family,” he says hoarsely. “But at the same time I hate them so much.”
“You don’t hate everyone, do you?”
“I hate Jay. I hate Janice. My mother, too. Effy, who thinks she’s above us now that she’s almost twenty. And I hate all the sheep.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “I hate myself too. I’m one of those fucking dutiful little sheep.”
“I thought you guys were a wolf pack,” I say, hoping a small joke might keep him talking.
The corner of his mouth twitches, but it’s not quite a smile.
“I broke up with my boyfriend last month. We were together for two years.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Want to tell me what happened?”
“He invited me to spend Christmas with his family. That’s when I knew it was never going to work. Just like last year, I told him I had to be here. He said he understood. But what about next year? Or the one after that? What would I say? Bring him here?”
Finn shakes his head. “No sane person would do that to someone they love.”
Ouch.
His eyes flick up to mine. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “You’re here. That’s why I acted like an idiot yesterday. I was probably jealous. Tom brought you here and I just… can’t.”
“How does it work?” I ask carefully. “How does Jay decide who’s in and who’s not? Janice is here, and so are Luca and Alex. Sergei and Mary? Calvin? Your father, once?”
I might’ve pushed it with that last one, so I keep quiet.
Finn glances around to make sure we’re alone. “Jay… gives strays a home. Lone wolves who need a pack.”
Understandable. Vulnerable people without a safety net. The cult bingo card is almost full, but something nags at me: a cult leader wants more followers, not fewer. So why keep it so exclusive?
Finn’s hand settles on my knee.
“This is just the inner circle,” he whispers. “Family and the chosen ones. There’s a syndicate in Amsterdam. Branches all over the continent. People who follow the ideology of the pack and move in the dark.”
Wait. What?Questions burst like fireworks in my head, but I don’t get the chance to ask them.
There’s voices from the living room, moving closer down the hall. The family’s coming this way.
Finn’s head snaps up. He scrambles out of the crawlspace and bolts. Moments later I hear his footsteps pounding up the stairs overhead.
I push myself off the floor and head toward the crowd. Tom’s at the back, carrying a thrashing Joan over his shoulder. I cover my mouth, trying to hide my laugh. He has no idea how ridiculous this looks. Usually I’m the one hauling a brat around like that.
Tom lights up when he spots me. “Love, I was looking for you. What were you doing there?”
“Nothing. Looking for the bathroom,” I say quickly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Finn leaning over the balustrade above. He watches us for a moment before disappearing out of sight.
We’re back at the dining table, this time for brunch. NoThrift Shop Thursdayon Christmas Day. Today we eat off fine porcelain. Every place setting matches, neatly layered, the first course a beef-and-vegetable soup.
Tom switches the place cards again, which raises brows and sets off whispers.
I pretend not to notice, taking my seat beside him.
